Chapter 14 TARAN #2
“Perfect,” he decided. “And the implication that you’re gonna fuck me after. Or during. Or eventually.”
“Should it be, like… light? Or hard? Or—how do I know?” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking, really.
He giggled and said, “Wanna try?”
I sat up, sending Shortcake scurrying, and peeled off my shorts.
He laughed some more. “Wait, you want me to do it to you?”
“Yeah. I wanna see what you’re looking for.” I stood and stretched.
He watched me, licking his lips and leaving them wet. Then leaned back into the couch and crooked his finger at me.
I raised an eyebrow and crawled back onto the couch, hovering over his lap. “Uh…”
He grabbed my ass cheek and squeezed. “Right there. Get comfy.”
Biting my lip to keep from laughing too hard, I stretched out across his lap. Then had to readjust, because my cock was a thousand percent in the way. “Fuck.”
“Hang on; lemme…” He leaned down and spread his knees wider, so my dick fit between his thighs. “Better?”
I turned my face toward him and pillowed it on my arms. “Okay, hit me.”
“You don’t have to use your hand, by the way. It can kinda sting.” He rubbed one warm hand over my cheek in a circle.
“That’s the point, right?” I asked. Not to mention one of my favorite things about this idea was that it was an excuse to just have my hands all over him.
“Yeah; I like the sting. Okay, easy at first.”
“Ready.”
He drew his hand up and brought it back down. My ass bounced in response, and I let out a little laugh. “That does sting. And now it feels kinda fuzzy.”
He drew circles with his fingertips in the hair on my cheek, almost tickling where the flesh was still fizzling from the slap.
“Ohhh…” I said. Honestly, him touching me anywhere like that would be hot. And being thrown over his lap naked was incredibly vulnerable, but there was no real fear in it, because it was Diego.
“More?” he asked.
“Yeah. Go ahead. Show me how hard you want it to get.”
“I mean, it’s a mood thing,” he said. “Let me know when it’s too much.”
I nodded, and he swatted me again in the same spot. Traced his fingertips over the stinging skin, and then swatted again up higher, so the burning fizzle sensation spread. He asked, “Okay?”
“It’s kinda nice,” I admitted with a breathless laugh. “I never really thought about sensation like this.”
He gave me a few more swats, each one sharper than the next, in slightly different spots on that cheek. Then he started tickling again, soothing, and the combination of the sting and the tickle made my balls ache just a little. “I think I just like you touching me,” I admitted.
“That’s definitely part of it.” He chuckled, still tickling gently. “And like, I’m so focused on you right now. You know all I’m thinking about is doing this for you.”
“Funny how a lot of your list is about wanting to be the center of attention,” I pointed out, smirking over my shoulder.
He swatted me harder, with the most satisfying cracking sound yet. I gave a little “oof,” and he said, “See, you can also get immediate retribution when I mouth off, like this.”
“Gotta admit I have had that urge for a lonnnnnng time.”
“Mmm, but you’re at my mercy, now.” He raised his hand.
“Happy birthday,” I said.
“I’m trying so hard not to make a cake joke. But it’s right. There.”
We got too loopy for conversation not long after that and fell into bed tangled up, lips pressed to skin, bellies against each other, his face in my armpit. My ass stinging pleasantly.
***
In the morning, I realized, “You still have two more things on your list.”
He muttered into my armpit, “So do you.”
“You go first.”
Immediately, he responded with, “Tie me up when you edge me.”
“Like, with rope?”
“I have some,” he said, rubbing his face against my side now. “Or we could get some cuffs. Or the thing that spread eagles you on the bed.”
“I like that mental image,” I had to admit. I spent a lot of energy holding his ass down when I was trying to drive him crazy like that; it’d be fun to let some toys handle it and just enjoy him squirming and begging. “You have a preference?”
“Mmm, not really. Never done a lot of that. You?”
“Try ’em all and see what you like?”
He laughed. “Sounds expensive.”
“And now we come to something else on my list…”
He finally picked up his head, pushing off my chest so he could look me in the eye. “Yessss?”
“I wanna spoil you.”
“I’m already spoiled, lover boy.”
I laughed. “No, like. I want to have a whole day where you just get to do shit that makes you feel good. Like those face masks, and whatever those eighty different moisturizers are in your bathroom, and—”
“A spa day?” His eyes lit up. “Will you do it all too?”
“Sure, yeah. Just like spend a day giving you foot rubs and serving you Champagne or some shit. And I’ll wear some cucumbers on my eyes too; why not?”
“Oh honey, the absolutely filthy shit I would do for that.”
“You don’t have to do anything for it,” I said with a laugh.
“Right, but this is sexy stuff.”
“I don’t need to get off for it to be sexy,” I pointed out. “I just wanna watch you look smug and hot in a fluffy bathrobe. And you can order me around and tell me to make lunch and bring you some more face scrub or whatever.”
He blinked. Then laughed.
“Make a list of the shit we need for a really bougie bitch spa day. Like stuff you wouldn’t normally buy because it’s just too over the top. Flowers, snacks, skincare stuff, hair stuff, clothes, all of it.”
“I need a budget.”
“I don’t know.” I considered. “Like, a thousand bucks?”
“What! No! Oh my god, Taran. That’s like, my whole rent.”
“Well, it’s supposed to be special,” I protested. “You won’t take time off to go to an actual spa resort, which I would love to do. I know you won’t—”
“I can’t!”
“So let me treat you here instead. Compromise. The heart of every good relationship,” I said solemnly.
“How much fucking money do you make?” he asked.
I told him. It wasn’t a crazy amount—the upper-level execs made bank, but the peons like me were pretty standard for the industry. That said, for a single guy with minimal debt, I didn’t do too badly.
And he said, “Yeah, okay. A thousand dollars it is. Thought I was joking about the daddy thing, but sugar me the fuck up, babe.”
***
Kacey had her revenge shortly after. On Wednesday morning, Diego texted me to say:
Diego
I’m so sick I think I’m gonna die.
Once we established that he was not, in fact, going to die, I waited until lunch to take him some soup.
“She gave me her fucking flu!” he complained from the bed. “My skin hurts.”
“C’mere.” I leaned over the bed to press my lips to his forehead. “Yep. You definitely have a fever.”
“Don’t get close. You’ll die too,” he muttered.
“I won’t let you die. I’ll be back after work with some Pedialyte.”
“The fuck is Pedialyte?”
“Life hack.”
I did a ton of research while nursing him for the rest of the week, figuring if I grounded myself in some proper BDSM, SSC, whatever the hell else education, I’d have an easier time shaking off porn stereotypes and finding some real ideas.
Friday night, when he was up and about but still feeling weak, he asked me what I was reading, and so I told him.
“Aw, baaaaabe.” He sniffled.
“There’s still one more thing on your list,” I reminded him. “If you feel up to telling me.”
“And yours!”
“You first.”
“It’s my birthday present,” he argued half-heartedly.
“Your week is officially over.”
“Not fair. I slept through half of it.” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll go first! Last thing: Sexting. Like, chatting me up specifically when I’m in public and can’t do a goddamn thing about it.”
“You’ve got me good a few times with that,” I said with a grin.
“You too. You have a gift. I wanna be gagging for it by the time I see you.”
“More than you already are?”
He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Aaaaand, for you?”
“I wanna fuck you while you watch yourself in the mirror.”
His mouth fell slightly open.
I flushed. Dammit, I’d been doing so well with these. “Is—I mean, you should see yourself, really. Just the way you—”
“Shhh,” he interrupted, eyes flashing. “Can we do that one now?”
I sighed. “Diego, you’re sick.”
“I’m horny.”
“And you’ll still be horny tomorrow.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Everyone knows that, but especially me.”
“I fucking hate Kacey. She ruins everything. Everything. All I want is to get fucked while watching myself in the goddamn mirror, but noooooo, someone has to come to my goddamn birthday dinner while sick with the motherfucking plague, and—”
I laughed as he ranted, glad to see he was coming back to his normal, salty self so quickly after having, you know. The plague.